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Atrophy

Demise.

A state I  claim as my own.

A walking catastrophe.

There

I saunter

Meander

in the state of atrophy.

 Cackles  full of apathy

No more I write for pleasure

I write  more for  no pleasure.

Wasted to academic response.

The demise of a broguer weary wasting away on the scribe’s chopping board

The life in an annus miribilis  mocking bird world.

Woken by the tweet ( hashtag) Motivation Monday.

Today’s news

The latest politician to fall into a blunder.

Cordoned off by the first sizzle of thunder.

Dissociate  from a time they could

Muster

Guster

Cluster

words connecting heart and mind

Until

over spillage

Foam  froth

Displayed shapely snowflakes

A Costa ‘s  coffee hallmark.

Glug down for the dawn of the   festival of the dead

 Mourning

in a town close to the  Pennines-

Lost to me is this place meant

To prove to be a better person,

My woe.

Ungirthed

A  spit  fire roasting.

A  moaning myrtle.

Toilets

vacant

Blocked up with  yesterdays cum

By  Yadda Yoda .

Glee geeked a fatal flaw.

A whore — seeking out the currency of words.

Could screaming out his name strengthen muscles of an inner core?

Bathe in white milk entice to indulge in a  favorite parlor  game?

This back drop.

A mood scape.

Blinded archetype to fate.

If this story could end..

Two acts saved by marty’s who implore

Destined by a saviour

Garnished blistered scabbed covered  Hope fulled folklore

May clarity denounce

infinite  notion  of worthlessness

Disparaged hypo-manic thought hindsight

Goaded in to  a contemplative state

sat on the floor

Coloring in books

Mind

Fully Clothed.

hidden from a distance

Write to recover  or die trying to be

A better self

at peace away from this tumultuous existence

These are my words.

atrophy

nounat·ro·phy | \ˈa-trə-fē \plural atrophies

Definition of atrophy 

1: decrease in size or wasting away of a body part or tissue atrophy of musclesalso : arrested development or loss of a part or organ incidental to the normal development or life of an animal or plant

2: a wasting away or progressive decline It was not a solitude of atrophy, of negation, but of perpetual flowering.— Willa Catheran atrophy of imagination. 

nounat·ro·phy | \ˈa-trə-fē \plural atrophies

Definition of atrophy 

1: decrease in size or wasting away of a body part or tissue atrophy of musclesalso : arrested development or loss of a part or organ incidental to the normal development or life of an animal or plant

2: a wasting away or progressive decline It was not a solitude of atrophy, of negation, but of perpetual flowering.— Willa Catheran atrophy of imagination. 

MERRIAM WEBSTER

Sabali wabi sabi

  • an experimental piece I wrote inspired by the existential Japanese philosophy- Wabisabi

Does it need to be said

Because the Media makes you think your make up is inappropriate?

If you are horrified to ask Google for mental health support

You know I’m hear to tell it — (once )’for a cause not for an applause’

To avoid the pariah of your mind.

Who you are is important for your wellbeing

Beautiful you are because of your malaise.

Its about what you think.

A unique template for peace of mind.

Alone-thoughts are you,

And yours together.

Others’ opinions must dance alone with their shadows.

Fathoming the world is relative to your state

Your kind.

Diagrams and graphic diagnostics aren’t “normal”!

Natural ?!

Necessary?

Merely for inferences and academic utterances.

Your Beauty is personified by playful events racing around your head.

Love it like you love…

…another human

Beings

Those who have numbers and words yet can’t calculate when there’s enough unsaid.

Needs are experiences.

Feelings are needs…

Interpret the world through the vessel of your spirited Self.

When skies hang drab

Do you dazzle because you can see a scattered horizon of hope — as a possibility ?

When the Others tether connections

Tumble into an abyss —

Can you see their limits ?

Step back.

Allow them to be.

Is your world subject to scrutiny because of how you interpret human nature?

Do you deviate from society’s accusations of what is the trending status quo?

What if the box you live in is… outside?

What if you build a bridge

Bearing a cross

Over to acceptable taboos ?

Breath prescribed by an arched smile.

Diagnose yourself Beautiful- because of your laments.

Before time becomes an absolute Obsession

Forecasting the outcome to the finale to the play of ‘This is your Life’.

Take moments to repose.

Free yourself from the expectation

To be your career

To win over the Marvel comic genderless hero.

Deprecate your expectations to finance your inner Happiness resources.

This entity is inside your realm of Consciousness — restless

Trodden and stamped into a standing pose.

Moments of reflection pace

Forwards then backwards

Misunderstood

Are you what you want to be?

Can you begin a journey if you don’t understand where you are at?

Certainly living up to some other lifer’s calculation should

Pause your being into a statuesque introspection.

To dismiss your guttural instincts will unravel you at the seams— out-thread you out of your very own mind.

Success comes from mapping out your own directions.

Hopeful-to wake up to another day of understanding ‘This is your Life’.

Your ability to comprehend, foreshadows your failed attempts to claw out of the darkest pit.

Sounds of the ocean lap to your melody.

Nothing that you feel about Today

Can conceive the trembling murmurs cut off from the guillotine of your Sanity.

In all of your figurements…are you determined to act out your suicides because you fear your inability to state your arousel ?

Who you are

Is that wrong?

Thoughts pre empt if everything is filled in with Leftism.

Resist apologising

Dismiss you have the good view

Change your world

Thoughtfully

Refuse every thing

That threatens your Passions —

That provokes beta beatings whistling out of tune.

Precious notions find a sense of disambiguation before the matter resolves itself.

Do you tell others to respond to what you fail to question?

Where is the perversity in watching the death of your inner Flinch — to conclude this delusion ?

What if you won’t be the canvas that contains an abstract spectrum fading you out of very own Self ?

Look on at those who shrink into their frames bled of every shade of hues

Is this what you want?

Words are our mercy

I have to read a few quotes of Oscar Wilde’s 100 page letter to his lover whilst incarcerated in prison for homosexuality called ‘Profundi’ ( read full article at end of post)

A few people I have spoken with about Wilde’s works dislike him.

He wasn’t a sexist. How could he be? He was for civility or equality and many of his musings and poems big up women & make fun at men.He was abhorred by society for being a homosexual.

For loving some one with his entire being.
Most of us may never feel that intensity of love. To love even if your life is at stake, your career – your status takes utter devotion.

Society is cruel,it really is and from reading this post I truly believe that words are our way to freedom. The one thing / people that we are not at mercy to .

Words are our mercy.

Quote Natasha Bodley

A trip to Oxford reading prison is now on my bucket list.

I became so emotional reading parts of it in this article.

One of my favourite parts of his letter Profundi

I want to get to the point when I shall be able to say quite simply, and without affectation that the two great turning-points in my life were when my father sent me to Oxford, and when society sent me to prison. I will not say that prison is the best thing that could have happened to me: for that phrase would savour of too great bitterness towards myself. I would sooner say, or hear it said of me, that I was so typical a child of my age, that in my perversity, and for that perversity’s sake, I turned the good things of my life to evil, and the evil things of my life to good.

What is said, however, by myself or by others, matters little. The important thing, the thing that lies before me, the thing that I have to do, if the brief remainder of my days is not to be maimed, marred, and incomplete, is to absorb into my nature all that has been done to me, to make it part of me, to accept it without complaint, fear, or reluctance. The supreme vice is shallowness. Whatever is realised is right.

[…]

Society, as we have constituted it, will have no place for me, has none to offer; but Nature, whose sweet rains fall on unjust and just alike, will have clefts in the rocks where I may hide, and secret valleys in whose silence I may weep undisturbed. She will hang the night with stars so that I may walk abroad in the darkness without stumbling, and send the wind over my footprints so that none may track me to my hurt: she will cleanse me in great waters, and with bitter herbs make me whole.

BRAIN PICKINGS